Steve is working his way up Danny's throat with the same single-minded dedication he shows to everything he does, and Danny can feel it, the way his whole body is flooding with slow warmth, how Steve's mouth at his pulse, directly over the artery, is heating all the blood passing by just beneath it.
Leaving Danny to shift again, but lazy, now, in a whisper of sheets against skin, sliding one foot up the mattress so his knee points to the ceiling, inside of calf and thigh against Steve's leg. One hand sliding down Steve's back, slow and savoring, and the other slipping fingers into Steve's hair, thumb rubbing against the thin skin of his skull.
All of it combining to center him, back here, in his body, that Steve is touching, that Steve is covering, while Steve is allowing Danny to lavish all those touches he'd never been allowed before over his skin. Palm flat and nearly reverent. Mapping the curves and slopes and blunted edges of Steve's body in a way he was never able to, before, even with a look. The dip at the small of his back. The curve of his ass. The flat strong plane, dense muscle layered over his shoulder blades.
All of it slowly sending Danny slipping off, back to the cloud he'd been floating on earlier, the perfect liquid looseness of his muscles. "Hmm?"
Taking a deep breath in, and cracking an eye when he half-turns towards Steve, when Steve has stopped and his mouth is no longer against Danny's skin, and Danny's sure Steve is answering some question, but he can no longer remember what, through the puffy white clouds currently fogging up his brain. "Never wanted to what?"
It could be a response to any part of what Danny just admitted to, confessed into this dark room, to this bed, to Steve. Maybe, even, to himself. Things he was never going to say, that never had a place to be said.
Suddenly wanted. Like him. Impossibly, and incredibly.
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Steve is working his way up Danny's throat with the same single-minded dedication he shows to everything he does, and Danny can feel it, the way his whole body is flooding with slow warmth, how Steve's mouth at his pulse, directly over the artery, is heating all the blood passing by just beneath it.
Leaving Danny to shift again, but lazy, now, in a whisper of sheets against skin, sliding one foot up the mattress so his knee points to the ceiling, inside of calf and thigh against Steve's leg. One hand sliding down Steve's back, slow and savoring, and the other slipping fingers into Steve's hair, thumb rubbing against the thin skin of his skull.
All of it combining to center him, back here, in his body, that Steve is touching, that Steve is covering, while Steve is allowing Danny to lavish all those touches he'd never been allowed before over his skin. Palm flat and nearly reverent. Mapping the curves and slopes and blunted edges of Steve's body in a way he was never able to, before, even with a look. The dip at the small of his back. The curve of his ass. The flat strong plane, dense muscle layered over his shoulder blades.
All of it slowly sending Danny slipping off, back to the cloud he'd been floating on earlier, the perfect liquid looseness of his muscles. "Hmm?"
Taking a deep breath in, and cracking an eye when he half-turns towards Steve, when Steve has stopped and his mouth is no longer against Danny's skin, and Danny's sure Steve is answering some question, but he can no longer remember what, through the puffy white clouds currently fogging up his brain. "Never wanted to what?"
It could be a response to any part of what Danny just admitted to, confessed into this dark room, to this bed, to Steve. Maybe, even, to himself. Things he was never going to say, that never had a place to be said.
Suddenly wanted. Like him. Impossibly, and incredibly.